


Long Hard Night

by Dynamic_Ideation



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Fellatio, Married Life, One Shot, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dynamic_Ideation/pseuds/Dynamic_Ideation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How does a superhero's wife put him to bed after a long day of saving the city?</p><p>“Barry,” she tilts her head as she breathes his name, “did The Flash have a long, hard night?”</p><p>A grunt escapes him. Something carnal takes over. He can already feel his dick starting to grow and fight against his suit.</p><p>He grips his manhood around the material. “I got your long and hard.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Hard Night

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I own nothing of The Flash.
> 
> I LIVE for comments, so please let me know how I'm doing! :)

Oftentimes sleep eluded her until he was home safely, out of his suit and into his Central High t-shirt and Bud Light pajama pants, long limbs spread out next to her, her gentle, mild-mannered Barry once again. Some nights she’d be so exhausted from investigating the supernatural all day that he would need to tiptoe in, settling himself surreptitiously into bed so as not to wake her. When he made it home at three that morning he made an effort to come in quietly, in case she isn’t waiting up for him this time.

She is. 

Tonight she sits on the edge of the bed. The light stealing through their window shows him that her petite frame is totally uncovered, exposed. He knees are slightly parted, baring the part of her that’s only for him. Her dainty hands cup her breasts, nipples already standing erect. She gives them a squeeze and licks her pouting lips. 

“Barry,” she tilts her head as she breathes his name, “did The Flash have a long, hard night?”

A grunt escapes him. Something carnal takes over. He can already feel his dick starting to grow and fight against his suit.

He grips his manhood around the material. “I got your long and hard.”

“Come give it to me, then.”

Iris lifts her chin and separates her lips and flicks her tongue at him. The point of her index finger comes up to tap the tip of that tongue; a clear invitation. Barry’s already vibrating because she knows that his favorite thing is to fuck her mouth while he’s standing up. 

He strides toward her, snatching his arms out of his suit as he advances, desperate to have it off. He gets it down around his hips and that’s just enough.

Iris is using her hand to free him. She looks up at him from beneath hooded eyes, the smile on her face turns him on even more.  
“Oh my,” she says, lifting her eyebrows in mock surprise, “Is all this for me?” Iris closes her right hand around his ever-hardening dick, and jerks him. Her touch is light, almost careful to start. This is how she builds the sensation for him. She knows precisely what her husband likes, from beginning to end. 

Barry’s eyes are tightly closed, wrinkling at the corners, and his lip is pulled back from his teeth in a growl. He’s already turning into a spaghetti noodle…except for the part in question. The part in Iris’ hand.

She wraps her left hand around the base of Barry’s dick and keeps up a steady rhythm with the dominant right, increasing the pressure and speed slightly. It’s less than sixty seconds before it’s hard enough to use as a murder weapon. 

“You really are ready for me, aren’t you, Baby?”. He doesn’t open his eyes but he still manages a half-grin. 

She teases the head with her tongue, sliding it back and forth, stroking him, spreading the wetness along the entire length of him before…inhaling him. Barry makes a strangled sound low in his throat. 

Iris’ mouth is hot. Feverishly hot. Hot enough to make him spontaneously combust, but he’s not ready for that yet.

At first Iris is controlling the pace. Barry stands still while she rocks back and forth, her head tilting slightly, left and right, left and right.

Her mouth is also slippery, and soft, and welcoming. He looks down and watches his wife make his dick disappear, then reappear, then disappear. The sight makes him tip his head back, the sweet throbbing ache reaching new heights, his hands clenching and unclenching, grabbing at Iris’ wrists, marking the skin with his fingerprints. 

The cool air shocks his shaft, makes him even harder, and the humidity invites him back in like a former lover, a rekindled romance. The warmth and the chill trade off, burning his senses with the stimulation.

Iris ramps up both the suction and the tempo, ever so slightly.

Barry gathers her hair in his hands and pulls it tight in his digits, rocking his hips forward and back, working himself in and out of her mouth. 

Iris keeps one hand wrapped around the base of him, the other on his thigh. She relaxes her throat when he works himself in, swallowing as much as she can (it’s just so damn long), and sucking when he pulls out. 

His breath comes out ragged and uneven as he gets closer to peaking. With each thrust of his hips, he snorts like a raging bull, filling his lungs in a powerful rush, only to empty them again just as quickly.

His breath hitches altogether when Iris swirls her tongue on the underside of the swollen head and moans as if there was any way she could be enjoying this as much as he is. 

It’s a this point that he has to remember to exercise some restraint; Iris jokes that if he wants a wife with teeth, he’d better keep his aim straight. She strokes the inside of his thigh, encouraging him, giving him permission, wetting her mouth, showing him how much she can handle. And then he’s going fast, blindingly fast. 

Barry goes in a bit too deep, poking the back of Iris’ throat; she coughs but doesn’t back down, and the vibration sends him straight over the edge.

“I’m gonna come, Babe,” he moans, and grimaces as if in rapturous pain. Iris can hear the intensity in his voice when he repeats himself, the words being clipped as they escape from his mouth. “I’m…gonna come…Babe…” His hands constrict in her hair, snatching it tight in his long fingers.

“God. Iris,” The words force their way out of him, fighting around the intensity of the orgasm, which is shutting his brain down.  
He forgets where he is. He forgets the time. He…he doesn’t even know what he’s forgetting, it’s So. Damn. Good. Iris is his lightning rod, pulling him back. The damn breaks and floods into her mouth.

She swallows every drop, the salty taste and milky texture familiar on her tongue.  
She looks up at him with a coy, innocent expression as she very lovingly cleans him up with her tongue. She takes one last long pull, like she’s drinking straight from the tap. Barry hisses and shivers. “Alright, alright… Jesus.” He beams a wide smile, trying his damndest to catch his breath.  
Iris has to laugh. “Can’t take the heat, huh?”

He’s drained- literally and figuratively- and his legs are ready to give out and he needs to sit, no lie down. Iris shakes her head at him, pretending to mock but in reality admiring her handiwork. He stretches out on their bed, exhausted, laughing at himself.  
“Take the suit off, Silly. I don’t want the city’s germs on my sheets..”  
“My bad.” He cracks up as Iris peels it off of him, because he’s just not capable doing it himself- His entire body is putty. 

Iris brings warm hand towels from the bathroom and smoothes one over her husband’s body. She then gives the suit a bit of a wipe with the other and hangs it up, carefully and reverently, in their closet. She washes her hands and face, brushes her teeth, wraps her hair before coming to bed. 

Barry has been waiting for her but is already half asleep, flat on his back. When she comes back he holds out his arm for her. He just wants her close. She tucks herself against his side, head on his shoulder, leg draped across him, tracing circles on his solid chest. He held her tight and kissed her forehead. “I love you,” he mumbled, right before losing consciousness.  
“I love YOU,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re my hero.”


End file.
